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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27900727">Ship of Dreams</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemisstpk/pseuds/littlemisstpk'>littlemisstpk</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Titanic Fusion, Anal Sex, Class Differences, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of War, Mentions of alcohol, Oral Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Suicidal Thoughts, Tragic Romance, mentions of drug use</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:40:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,607</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27900727</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemisstpk/pseuds/littlemisstpk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kiyoomi is an aristocrat on his way to a marriage he never wanted in the US, and Atsumu booked a third class ticket to a different life.</p><p>Or, a Sakuatsu Titanic AU.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, other relationships not tagged - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>73</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue: 1982</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I have been fascinated by local history for most of my life, and being from Nova Scotia, that includes the Titanic and the Halifax Explosion as part of it. So me writing this is the fusion of two of my largest hyperfixations ever. </p><p>While I've been working on this since May, I took my time to make sure that all the moving parts of the story were working correctly, and that all the facts that have been floating in my brain for 20+ years didn't come out like a dry textbook, nor would simply retread what James Cameron did for the film.</p><p>Updating every week.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The old man steps out of the car, steadying himself on his cane. He half-heartedly waves off the helping hand of his driver and caretaker, and instead, makes his way through the concrete pillars towards the grave site not far away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The coastal city of Halifax isn't home to much except for the remnants of several disasters, a significantly sized naval base and a fortress that kept the former British colony from becoming American. The large cemetery bordering the city's west end is where he's likely to find what he's looking for: closure to a time in his youth he thought he had left far behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mr. Miya! Wait up!" His caretaker, Shouyou, jogs behind him, catching up quickly. The old man gives him a small, indulgent smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn't take long for the two of them to approach the monument, as it's visible from the lower entrance that they used. It's a wide swath of simple markers, following the contours of the gently-sloping hill. It reminds him faintly of the waves along the cold Atlantic, grey and unforgiving, not unlike the outskirts of the city housing these people's final resting place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shouyou looks around at the gravestones. “If Grammy were still alive, I think she’d like to see this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The old man has a vision of a young girl with red hair, dancing heartily to a jig in a ship's hold as the party on board surrounds her. He crouches in front of one stone, unnamed and only marked by a single identification number and a date of death. He touches the inscription with a tenderness he normally reserves for his philanthropic work, and smiles wanly. The ache in his knees cuts short his reverie too soon, and he's forced to put his weight on his cane to bring himself to his feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shouyou rushes towards him, supporting him as he manages to steady his stance. There are a few tears brimming at the corner of his eyes, and he shrugs off Shouyou's movement to keep him upright. Instead, he turns to the younger man. "Thanks for indulging an old man's morbid curiosity, boy." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shouyou puffs up in indignation. "I'm not a boy! I'm in my twenties! An adult!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The old man starts walking away. "When you get to be my age, anyone younger than you is a kid." There's a twinkle in his eye as he flashes a half smile, and makes his way back to the car. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shouyou huffs in response, shakes his head, and walks back to the car to bring them back to their hotel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time he makes it back to the hotel, the old man is swarmed with memories of seventy years before. He lays awake, age-spotted hands crossed over his stomach, and he stares at the familiarly strange ceiling as the ghost of a chamber orchestra fills his ears. The Blue Danube, in all its sterile, inoffensive glory, serenades him in his quest for sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he finally closes his eyes, he's treated to the feeling of gentle rocking along a calm sea, the soothing sound of a man’s laughter over the music, and he finally relaxes into sleep's embrace. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. April 10, 1912</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kiyoomi boards the ship, and broods on his reason for leaving Britain, and meets Atsumu.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kiyoomi exited the automobile amidst the bustling crowd at the Southampton pier, where the ship meant to drag him towards his unwanted marriage waited for his arrival. He craned his neck upwards: Titanic definitely was a fitting name for it. It was at least fifty feet up to the topmost deck, and the giant steam funnels towering above even that. His mother gushed at the luxuriousness of the ocean liner, but Kiyoomi thought of it as a garish cage carting him off to the gallows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took the last of their finances and what little was left of his father's inheritance to get a pair of first class tickets on D deck, but that didn't matter to Kiyoomi. As soon as he entered the elegantly decorated state room, he found the bed and flopped forward to bury his head in the bedspread. The lush bedding had never been slept in, and so even Kiyoomi, fastidious and fussy, had little problems attempting to breathe in the fabric, hoping to suffocate himself in the process. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Kiyoomi!" His mother called from the other side of the room, and he groaned into the sheets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What." Kiyoomi's voice stayed monotone as he barely lifted his face from the sheets to answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked into the bedroom, and grumbled her disapproval. "Get up, you lazy boy! You need to unpack." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi could read between the lines, and he knew that she meant for him to unpack her belongings as well as his own. For someone who professed separation from commoners, she was sure fond of using her own son as a man servant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finished his task just as the ship jolted away from the pier where they were docked. He knew that the boat deck would be over-full of passengers waving goodbye to the small city sheltered in a jetty along the English channel; instead, he peered out of the porthole to watch England grow smaller and smaller with every passing moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He picked up a book, lounging with his well-worn copy of </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Picture of Dorian Gray, </span>
  </em>
  <span>comforted by the main character's descent into madness. With each turn of the page, Kiyoomi wished to be free, to pursue pleasure for the sake of pleasure. Instead, he faced a lifetime of lies and self-hatred because it meant that his mother would get off his back, and he could only hope that his wife-to-be was okay with a cold husband who wanted nothing to do with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A horn blared out a call, and judging from the sun's position and the distinct growl in his stomach, it was meant to summon him to supper. He opened up his wardrobe to put on one of his tuxedos, and took in his appearance in the mirror. He had height that most men would envy, and curly hair that women swooned over. The moles on his forehead marked him as just exotic enough to warrant a second glance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He only hoped that his mother would leave him alone and not comment on his "unkempt appearance," as nothing he could do would ever live up to her standards. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dining with aristocracy is its own form of cruel punishment, and Kiyoomi found through too much experience that it's easier to stay silent and eat slowly to avoid the worst of the inane conversation. Despite doing everything politely possible to avoid listening in on any one particular conversation, Kiyoomi still heard his mother gush about his impending nuptials. It took everything within him not to curl his lip in disgust. It was disheartening to be constantly reminded of his unworthy life, that nothing he could do would ever make things better. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first-class dining room was suffocating, stealing each breath from Kiyoomi’s body faster than he could inhale air to replace it. The Strauss that the band played stole the air from the room even faster, until the sensation was unbearable. With a mumbled apology, he left to go get some fresh air, but his mother followed his retreat with a calculating gaze. It had been a long time since Kiyoomi had been fully intimidated by it, and the petulant twenty year old continued forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In another reality, he could have run towards the stern, distraught and without caring who could see his distress. Instead, he let the frigid April air of the North Atlantic night cut through his thin tuxedo jacket. He suppressed a shiver as he opened the gate leading to the aft-most deck, and Kiyoomi strode confidently towards the railing protecting him from the black abyss below. He leaned over, gripping the metal railing tightly in his grasp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just seeing the churning water below made his head spin from the height, and being excited from the rush of sensation coursing through his body was enough for him to lean further and further out, until his body was half off the ship. It was a nice reminder that he's still alive, and that he had a choice in controlling at least one thing in his life. The hum of the engines and the rustling of the water in the wake of the propellers drowned out whatever argument Kiyoomi's mind could come up with. That blank feeling was glorious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whadda waste." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi was startled out of his reverie by a smooth, accented voice. The jolt was enough for him to pitch forward, until he found himself on the wrong side of the railing. He cried out, and his hand miraculously found the bottom rung of the railing, his feet dangling dangerously in the air. The North Atlantic water threatened to swallow him whole, even as the ship moved steadily onwards. While he had dreamed of fading away to the background to escape his particular set of woes, now that he found himself in this position, Kiyoomi wanted to hold on with all his might. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a flash, a handsome man appeared before him, and he held out his hand for Kiyoomi to grab. "'Ya have a death wish or sumthin'?" A crooked smile hid the scared look in his eyes at Kiyoomi's stupidity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi reached out for the offered hand, and it took all of their joined effort to get him to the point where his shoe could find purchase on the small amount of deck underneath the railing. Just as Kiyoomi found traction on wood, the handsome stranger got a renewed burst of energy, pulling Kiyoomi over the rail with a single bound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time Kiyoomi realized he had landed on the deck, he was acutely aware of the warm body beneath him, close enough that they breathed the same air. Kiyoomi was spellbound as jolts of electricity surged through every point where their bodies made contact, and even though this position wasn't exactly his choice, Kiyoomi no longer questioned the existence of a higher being working in his favour: his prayers had been answered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ya know, normally I'd hafta buy a big bouquet of flowers and a lot of good grub before I'd get anyone in this position." The man waggled his eyebrows obscenely and wiggled his hips beneath him, which only made Kiyoomi harden his face at the scene below him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Kiyoomi quickly rose to his feet, the other man whined in protest. "Aw, don't be like that, Mister Fancy Pants." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a moment to brush the lingering salt of the ocean spray from his tuxedo's tails, shooting his saviour a glare as he accomplished his task. That didn't stop him: the unnaturally blond man rose to his feet, wiped his hands on the ratty front of his pants, and held out his hand. "The name's Miya. Atsumu Miya." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi didn't take the offered hand. "Kiyoomi Sakusa." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu shoved the rejected hand into his pocket. "So, Omi, what brings ya to </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> section of the ship?" Despite the emphasis on his possession of the aft deck, it was clear to Kiyoomi that it was half-hearted teasing at best.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't get a chance to continue the conversation, because Kiyoomi could hear the shrill voice of his mother piercing the late evening air. He swore under his breath as he rushed back to the first class promenade. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blocked out the high-pitched berating from his mother as they walked back to their state room. As he redressed for bed and slipped under the covers, Kiyoomi's final thoughts before falling asleep were of a crooked smile and a smooth accent that dug under his skin. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. April 12, 1912</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kiyoomi is reminded of his past, and broods over the water.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kiyoomi dreamed he was back at the boarding school his father insisted he attend, still spending his days with his school friends and his cousin Motoya out in the British countryside. The old stone buildings had numerous alcoves that Kiyoomi could hide in, and a forest nearby that was used just enough to have not very much undergrowth while still being relatively secluded. Even though Motoya was likely a plant by his family to keep him in check, the benefits outweighed the negatives, and Kiyoomi thrived while he was away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembered the fastidious way that Tsukasa, a schoolmate a year ahead of him, would keep his clothing, how crisp the corners were on his bedding, and also how neatly he would stack his papers before writing his assignments. The fact that Tsukasa looked as if he walked straight out of a Renaissance painting only endeared him more to fussy, prickly Kiyoomi who never thought of women as more than superficially pretty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had Tsukasa's back up against one of the trees, and Kiyoomi's hands snaked under his untucked shirt. Tsukasa was just as eager; he had spread his legs to encourage Kiyoomi to move even closer, humming with contentment into their linked mouths as he stroked Kiyoomi's hair. Everything about the situation made Kiyoomi want more, and there was nothing he could do to fully fill that need.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's jolted out of the kiss by Motoya's gentle voice. "Kiyoomi? Tsukasa?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Life as Kiyoomi knew it had ended. </span>
</p><hr/><p>Kiyoomi woke up in a cold sweat, and after finding his pocket watch, he groaned at the time it displayed. He flopped over onto his stomach, placed an extra pillow over his head, and pressed down. The tight suffocation was something he welcomed with open arms.</p><p>
  <span>He freshened up and got dressed, just in time to see the sun peeking over the horizon from the porthole into his stateroom. He wasn't normally one of those people who willingly got up to see the sunrise, but there was something about how he could see the sun smirk as it slowly made its way over the horizon, bringing light on to Kiyoomi's life in a different way. He couldn't find the energy within him to curse the early hour like he normally would have.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he reflected on the previous night's dreams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After Tsukasa graduated, he went off to Oxford, and from the last update that Motoya gave Kiyoomi, he had just married and was expecting his first child. Kiyoomi didn't like the slightly pitying look that Motoya gave him, but there was little else he could do to mourn his first love. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Motoya had proven himself not to be a blind spy for his mother, and ended up keeping Kiyoomi's secret very well. He also became one of Kiyoomi's closest friends as well as one of the few family members he didn't mind being around. It was a shame that Motoya was knee-deep in final exams at Oxford, or he would have been Kiyoomi's best man, and there was no way that his mother would have consented to delay the wedding for that to happen, either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He left the room, and in the short walk it took for him to get to the staircase to reset his pocket watch, he was able to see that the restaurant was open for breakfast. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The food was objectively good, but Kiyoomi was unable to fully taste it, and it turned stale in his mouth. Still, just like the ship was steaming steadily towards New York whether Kiyoomi wanted to or not, he shoveled the rest of his meal into his mouth. He paid for his food and left the restaurant more quickly than was strictly polite, but then again, his mother reminded him daily of how disappointed she was to have a son like him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi made his way to the boat deck, and when he arrived the sun was shining with all its splendour. The brightness was sickening, but it reflected off the swells like jewels off the water. It was awe inspiring, and he couldn't come up with any words to give it justice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The view along the sides wasn't anything like the view of the wake caused by the propellers, and Kiyoomi longed to go there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last time, Kiyoomi hadn't cared about things like propriety and manners when he walked to the back of the ship. In the morning sun, with more of the ship awake, he had more to consider about getting to the aft deck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In order to get to the best view of the churning water behind the ship, not only did Kiyoomi have to navigate the second class promenade deck, that aft deck was technically the third class open air section. His mother would kill him if she were to hear that he was seriously considering slumming it just for what she considered an inferior view of the ship, but the side effect of that meant that he wouldn't have to get married. The worst thing that could happen, he reasoned, was that he could be caught by a steward, handed over to a purser, and locked up for the rest of the trip. So really, it wasn't that far off from his current situation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He jumped the first barrier to second class, and he was mildly disappointed that it was as easy as it was. The few passengers that were outdoors in the chilly April morning paid no lingering attention to him, other than a polite nod to greet him as he walked by. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He made it to the railing, the one he nearly fell off of the night before, and looked out at the sight before him. England was long gone, but the propellers churned the dark blue water until it left a trail that was nearly the colour of the clear sky above. Kiyoomi leaned his weight on the railing, at a far more safe angle than he had been the night before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was mesmerizing, feeling the vibrations from the rapidly spinning propellers travel up through his hands, as well as the blue change from dark to light. Kiyoomi stood there, lightly holding the railing, until the tips of his fingers tingled with oncoming numbness. Then, and only then, did he settle onto his elbows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fancy meeting ya here again." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Kiyoomi spun around to face the familiar voice, Atsumu had his hands shoved into his pockets, and he strode with a bit of a swagger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi nodded towards the wake the ship created. "You have the best view available." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu huffed. "What? With all the dog piss and shit? There's a reason they call this the poop deck." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned toward the water, and Kiyoomi let out a soft giggle. It wasn't like Atsumu was wrong--first class dogs were taken here by their servants to do their business--but the gall of actually saying it aloud and in such vulgar terms made Kiyoomi feel like he was actually living, instead of being the lifeless husk of a human his mother insisted on him being. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If asked about specific topics within the conversation, Kiyoomi would not be able to recall anything about what they spoke about. Instead, he curled his fingers underneath the edges of his coat sleeves, hiding the smile on his face with his covered hands as Atsumu effortlessly filled the air. He had an image to maintain, but Kiyoomi found himself caring less and less about etiquette and propriety as he drank in Atsumu’s vigorous jokes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite his best efforts, Kiyoomi’s fingers resembled ice cubes by the time the announcement for supper rang out across the promenades. Atsumu was close enough to hear Kiyoomi’s stomach grumbled a protest at missing lunch, and he let out a laugh. “Tomorrow, if the weather holds, we should actually make a plan to do somethin’. I mean, if yer plan is to come over here ev’ry day.” Atsumu turned towards the ocean behind the ship. “I gotta crib board and a deck of cards, if ya want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi tried to not look too eager at the thought of spending another day far away from his mother. “I’ll be here after breakfast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he jumped the gate to go towards his own section of the ship, Kiyoomi turned toward Atsumu, and let out a rare, full smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That night, dinner was not the torture it normally was, daydreaming about an accent and a half-cocked grin.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. April 13, 1912</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kiyoomi learns how to party the poor people way, and he finally resolves the crush he's had on Atsumu.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Merry Christmas!</p><p>I'm posting a day early, because it's already done and I want to. This is also the chapter which really earns the rating! </p><p>Next post will be in the New Year!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kiyoomi went to the dining saloon as soon as it opened, and ate his breakfast as quickly as he could get away with eating. Proper manners emphasized eating slowly and carefully; eating like a starving man in front of a feast simply outed anyone who could afford a first class ticket as new money. His late father may have been a gambler who left his family nearly destitute with debts, but he was from an old name, a fact his mother never let him forget. </p><p>The thing was, Kiyoomi was a starving man, just not for nutrition. He had found an unlikely friend and ally in steerage, who helped him feel as carefree as he did when he went to boarding school. There was a jolt of electricity that rolled across Kiyoomi's skin as he thought about his actual plans with Atsumu; just him, a crib board, and that wry grin. It was nowhere near Tsukasa's fond smile, but it really didn't have to be--it was unlikely that Atsumu would cave to society's pressure in the same way. </p><p>He learned from his adventure the day before, when his fingers did their best impression of blocks of ice after being out for long enough without the proper clothing. That day, Kiyoomi made sure to wear at least a thin pair of gloves. </p><p>When he got to their spot, it was to find that Atsumu was not alone. There was a big, burly man exuberantly slamming cards down on the bench between them, and just as excitedly, a small man with orange hair yelling out his running score with enough loud taunts that Kiyoomi was already mourning the loss of his hearing, and he wasn't even fully up the stairs. Just as he got within sight range, Atsumu was in the process of counting his crib, leapfrogging his peg until it was alone at the end, drawing out each score for dramatic effect, crowing as he skunked both his opponents. </p><p>Atsumu noticed him as Kiyoomi opened the gate, and he cheerfully beckoned him over.</p><p>“Omi!” Atsumu seemed to be in his element, surrounded by people with something to do. “I’d like ya to meet Shouyou--” he indicated the smaller redhead to his left-- “And Koutarou.” The big, burly man smiled widely at Kiyoomi as he enveloped his hand and shook it wildly before Kiyoomi could take it back.</p><p>"Whaddya say about a game of partners?" Atsumu handed the deck over to Shouyou, and Kiyoomi took his place opposite Atsumu. As Shouyou dealt the mess, Kiyoomi sized up Atsumu, looking for any tics that could give him any clue about how to get the most points possible. Shouyou was cheery as he passed out the cards, and Koutarou was equally as energetic, but the air filled with enough competitive energy that it was palpable between them. This was going to be fun. </p><p>After a quick look at his cards, Kiyoomi determined that the most he could score at the end was a couple of fifteens. By throwing away the nine, he had a chance of pegging several more than that combination of cards suggested, provided that Atsumu could follow his lead. Laying down the four in his hand, he could only hope that Atsumu could pick up on what he put down. </p><p>Koutarou excitedly places another four into the mix, declaring, "Eight for two!" He moved the white peg that much closer to the goal. </p><p>Atsumu smiled a wide, predatory grin, and he placed yet another four on top of Koutarou's. "Twelve for six." Kiyoomi’s eyebrows shot nearly to his hairline, because he was simply trying to set up a standard fifteen. Instead, they got something better. </p><p>It was exhilarating to be back at the game, because when they would have marathon games at school, Kiyoomi always ended up with the largest candy pile from the wagers placed in those tournaments. It wasn't as if his schoolmates could match him in skill; so finding out Atsumu was just as good made his heart soar just as much as if he was dealt a coveted twenty-nine hand. </p><p>They didn't quite pull off a double-skunk--Shouyou in particular was surprisingly shrewd despite some of the idiotic banter that escaped his mouth--but it was close. </p><p>Kiyoomi guessed it was more to cover the sore loser reflex, but Shouyou jumped up from his place on the bench, and declared, "Lunchtime!" He raced toward the stairwell leading to the interior of the ship, and disappeared below, with Koutarou not far behind. </p><p>Kiyoomi turned to Atsumu, who simply held out his hand, and said, "C'mon." </p><p>Atsumu led Kiyoomi down the long hallway, until they got to a set of stairs, and they traipsed their way down. Atsumu navigated the food line, and he placed a bowl of some sort of stew in Kiyoomi’s hands before picking out some bread and leading him to a table. By the time they made it to the table, Koutarou hopped into the chair as if he were five years old instead of in his early twenties. “Shouyou eats with his mother and sister,” Atsumu provided, indicating towards the front section of the dining room designated for families.</p><p>The stew wasn’t anything fancy, but the general lack of strict table manners made the simple food worth it, and a far more lively meal than if he were to be subjected to the first class dining saloon. Atsumu watched the smile creep onto Kiyoomi’s face as he took his first bite of the simple, beef stew.</p><p>“And here I was wonderin’ if Mister Fancy Pants here wouldn’t be happy if he ate somethin’ not as prissy as foy graw to make him feel right at home.” Atsumu drew out the French words in his accent as he jabbed Kiyoomi in the side with his elbow, which nearly made him lose the potato he had on his spoon.</p><p>“I was never a real fan of foie gras, I've always liked my food on the more simple side.” He shovelled the food into his mouth, and while the stew could have done with a little bit of salt, it was a step above simply edible, which was high praise for food his mother deemed 'servant slop'. </p><p>Throughout the entire meal, Atsumu looked over at Kiyoomi with an expression he couldn't easily parse, even as the dining hall staff shooed the pair of them out of their seats. </p><p>As they walked towards the stairs leading to the front general room, it was to find the beginnings of a party setting up. Kiyoomi's immediate thought was that right after lunch was a little early to start drinking, but Atsumu leaned in to whisper in his ear. "This is a vacation for most people, one of the few chances to let loose a little." Atsumu placed his hand on Kiyoomi's back, and it was simultaneously nerve-wracking and soothing. Atsumu took the wool coat out of Kiyoomi's hands, and led him to a cabin two decks below, finally throwing it on one of the top bunks, before leading him back to the party. </p><p>Kiyoomi had never liked crowds, and liked the large galas his mother would drag him to even less, where the rooms were filled but not stuffed to the point where it was too much to handle. The experience of being in the general room with a hatch cover doubling as a dance floor was overwhelming beyond any vocabulary Kiyoomi possessed, and the only thing that anchored him to reality was Atsumu's hand on his lower back, pushing him forward. </p><p>Koutarou and Shouyou had rushed off to find some beer immediately, but Atsumu didn't; he steered Kiyoomi off to the side before he stepped away to grab a pair of drinks. It was a different experience, to be in the middle of a room where Kiyoomi was an unknown person, surrounded by lively music and even livelier dancing. It wasn't the stifling, hot air of expectations taking the air away from expansive ballrooms. </p><p>With a beer glass placed into his hand, Kiyoomi tipped it back, taking half his contents in one go. With each consecutive swallow, the loud drone of multiple bagpipes became that much more bearable. When he finally came up for air, Atsumu gave an astonished laugh over his own glass. "I didn't think ya had it in ya." </p><p>Kiyoomi took another gulp of his beer. "It's an old trick to deal with the parties my mother drags me to. Except it's usually wine, instead of beer."</p><p>Atsumu's laugh rolled down Kiyoomi's spine as he drank his own amidst the energetic jig and multiple sets of bagpipes, and a smile graced Kiyoomi's lips at the sight. In a room full of commotion and people, a situation that normally led to anxiety and misanthropy, it created a sense of privacy and intimacy between the two of them.</p><p>After Kiyoomi downed a second and third glass just as quickly as the first, the sensation of Atsumu's hand brushing up against the bare skin of his forearm left electricity that was nearly palpable between them. It was intoxicating, even more so than the beer he had ingested in a short amount of time, and before Kiyoomi's slightly slowed brain could think over the consequences, his fingers caressed Atsumu's forearm. It was a barely-there touch, but Atsumu noticed right away: rather than flinching, he leaned in. </p><p>"Do you have any idea of what you do to me?" Atsumu's voice was both low in volume and pitch, and it made Kiyoomi's cock jump in excitement. </p><p>Kiyoomi leaned upwards, close enough that he could touch the shell of Atsumu's ear with his lips. "If it's anything like what you do to me, then at least we're in agreement." </p><p>Atsumu let out a soft whine, and he frantically turned his head, searching for something that Kiyoomi couldn't guess at that current moment. </p><p>With a small exclamation of, "yes!", Atsumu downed the last of his drink, and pulled Kiyoomi back towards the dining hall. Instead of going down the second set of stairs to the dining hall, Atsumu stopped at a hatch, where the only thing that looked different from the regular doors dotting the edge of the hallway was the fact that the bottom edge was a foot above the deck flooring. A quick jiggle and a pair of hairpins later, Atsumu opened the door. </p><p>They both stumbled through the door frame, and as Atsumu secured the hatch behind him, the first thing that Kiyoomi processed was that it was a maze of metal gangways, and then it clicked in that there was the overwhelming whine of machinery in the midst of the extremely hot room. The surroundings screamed, "employees only", but that was only a fleeting thought. The small landing that they found themselves on was still large enough for both of them to stand, albeit barely. Atsumu grabbed him by the lapels, and plastered Kiyoomi against the ladder, pushing into a searing kiss. </p><p>In this position, Atsumu had lean upwards to assert his dominance over Kiyoomi, and even though the height difference wasn't a lot, it was enough that Kiyoomi had to bend his knees into a somewhat of a squat in order to position himself so that he could comfortably get friction against Atsumu's knee. </p><p>Kiyoomi sighed into Atsumu's mouth, and he clawed into the rough fabric covering Atsumu's back in order to find more purchase. Atsumu lifted his body off of Kiyoomi, and he was faced with a flushed face and mussed hair, knowing that he matched his partner. Kiyoomi moved in that liminal moment between action and hesitation, the beer-soaked bravery finally surfacing. </p><p>It didn't take him long to sink to his knees, but Kiyoomi's mouth watered as soon as his face was level with Atsumu's waistband, and a quick glance upwards proved that Atsumu was dumb struck at this turn of events. His jaw was stuck open, and even from his position on the ground, Kiyoomi could see Atsumu's pupils blown with such clarity that even without words, the want and desire emanated that strongly. </p><p>The belt holding Atsumu's trousers up and the buttons holding the fly shut were minor barriers to Kiyoomi getting his way, and it didn't take much effort for him to worm his way into Atsumu's underclothes. Atsumu was painfully hard, and with Kiyoomi's face this close, he couldn't stop that full body shiver roll through his body and steal the breath from his lungs. Even if the air wasn't naturally overheated from the machinery below them, Kiyoomi was sure that he would want to melt under the pressure of his desire, but instead he leaned in. </p><p>As Kiyoomi looked upwards, licking a stripe from base to tip, the litany of curses escaping from Atsumu were drowned out by the equipment, and he floundered in deciding where to place his hands. Kiyoomi had barely wrapped his lips around the tip when Atsumu rapidly moved his hands through the ends of Kiyoomi's hair, to futilely muffling the sounds coming from his own mouth, to grasping the iron railing Kiyoomi had nudged him toward. By the time Kiyoomi relaxed his tongue and bobbed downwards, Atsumu settled on his right hand threading through Kiyoomi’s curls and the other steadying him against the railing. </p><p>Atsumu's fingers tangling in his hair was a new sensation--not even Tsukasa, who held so many of Kiyoomi's firsts, dared to brave his wrath by sullying his curls--but Kiyoomi couldn't bring himself to be mad. Instead, it was nearly hypnotic having the rough pads of Atsumu's fingertips scrape against his scalp as a nice counterpoint to the metal gangway digging into his knees. To bring him out of the trance, Kiyoomi caressed Atsumu's balls with his left hand, as his right worked the length in tandem with his mouth. </p><p>The sharp tug on Kiyoomi’s hair elicited a groan, and Atsumu's hands shook with effort. Even if the noise escaping Kiyoomi's lips was lost in the din, the sensation of his throat was enough to push Atsumu over the edge. Kiyoomi had never enjoyed the taste of his own release (or anyone else's for that matter), but Atsumu's was twice as intoxicating as the several beers he had ingested not long before, and he drank it down just as eagerly. </p><p>Atsumu barely had time to soften in Kiyoomi's mouth before he was pulled to his feet by his lapels. The kiss was deep, sloppy and everything that Kiyoomi didn't know that he wanted, and it was beyond anything his senses could comprehend to have Atsumu there, nestled nicely against him as if he was made for Kiyoomi specifically. Even as the room spun, Atsumu kept Kiyoomi anchored in place. </p><p>It just took a couple of clever fingers to unbutton Kiyoomi's fly, and Atsumu never pulled out of the kiss, so that Atsumu's calloused hands wrapped neatly around his cock. The friction was delicious, and he bucked upwards until he felt more skin against him. It was only momentary, but it was enough for him to let out a moan into Atsumu's mouth. He in turn gasped for air.</p><p>Atsumu was brazen, as he lifted himself from on top of Kiyoomi in order to step out of his trousers and open his shirt wide. This was a wonderful idea, the last vestiges of Kiyoomi's rational thought decided, and Kiyoomi quickly followed suit. Just as Atsumu pushed Kiyoomi back against the railing, Kiyoomi spread his legs to allow for Atsumu to get even closer. He wrapped his legs around Atsumu's middle, and revelled in the feeling of his cock sandwiched between them. </p><p>As wonderful as this position happened to be, it was very difficult for Kiyoomi to get enough traction to come against Atsumu's body, even rolling his hips to its largest range of motion. That bastard broke the kiss in order to rest his forehead against Kiyoomi's, and the only reason he knew Atsumu was laughing was the huffs of breath against his overheated skin. </p><p>Kiyoomi slid down Atsumu’s hips from the sweat gathering on his skin. It was that slippery yet tacky sensation that wasn't a common occurrence during Kiyoomi's childhood, but Atsumu's face lit up with an idea. He leaned down to rummage in his trouser pockets, until he stood up with a small glass jar, and handed it over to Kiyoomi. </p><p>He opened the jar to inspect the contents, only to find it half-full of vaseline. The heat of the room made it so that part of it had gone liquid, but Kiyoomi's mind spun with the possibilities. Tsukasa had preferred to steal some cooking oil from the kitchens for their trysts, and Kiyoomi's cock twitched at the thought of Atsumu entering him. </p><p>Atsumu's face held that look of excitement, expectation and pride at his solution, and rather than speak words that would get lost into the din caused by the massive boiler beneath them, he surged forward to hungrily kiss Atsumu, and hoped he would get the message. Instead of arms wrapping around him, Atsumu detached himself from Kiyoomi’s lips in order to dip in and spread a glob across his hands to start. </p><p>Atsumu was only half hard, so Kiyoomi wondered what the point of slicking himself up would be. Against his expectations, Atsumu reached out and, wow. Kiyoomi had expected to take whatever Atsumu could give him, but this was a wonderful turn of events. The silkiness of the ointment warmed against his skin felt delectable and way better than the stolen cooking oil he had used before had ever felt. </p><p>Atsumu reached behind himself, but before Kiyoomi could question what was happening, Atsumu turned around, steadied Kiyoomi's cock against him, and pushed down. Despite the fact that very few words were exchanged to make this happen, Kiyoomi couldn't imagine anywhere he would rather be in that moment, as he curled his fingers into the hairs dotting Atsumu's chest in an attempt to ground himself and catch his breath. </p><p>Kiyoomi tentatively thrusted into Atsumu, and rather than finish halfway in, he forced himself to focus on the boiler below, the fires powering the ship, the stew settling into his stomach. Anything but the fact that Atsumu's ass was fluttering around his cock, and that he was breathing far more shallowly than he strictly should have been. The heat of Atsumu's body wasn't too dissimilar from the heat of the room, but nothing could cover the distinct rumble of Atsumu's moans reverberating through his chest as he bottomed out on Kiyoomi's cock. </p><p>Atsumu grabbed the railing in front of him, and pushed back onto Kiyoomi's body. Even in the stray firelight coming from below, some part of Kiyoomi's mind recoiled at the sight of Atsumu's shiny, slick hands, so instead, he placed his own hand next to Atsumu's on the railing, all while slipping his right hand under Atsumu's open shirt. </p><p>Kiyoomi thrusted into Atsumu, and he rumbled beneath his hands at the sensation. It was almost overwhelming, once everything was put together, but rather than pull out and collect his composure like a wimp, Kiyoomi channeled his restraint into a smooth steady rhythm. Atsumu had been the source of several fantasies for the half a week he had been on the ship; Kiyoomi wasn't going to lose what seemed to be his one chance simply because he got too excited for his own good. </p><p>Still, with relentless finality, all good things must come to an end. With a final buck into Atsumu, Kiyoomi bit down on his shoulder as he saw stars dance across his vision. It took him several moments to catch his breath, and then Kiyoomi got the courage to pull out. His oversensitive cock caused shivers to run through his body, especially as Atsumu clenched as he was pulling out, but once they were separated, Kiyoomi already missed the closeness of their bodies. </p><p>As much as Kiyoomi wanted to linger and enjoy his afterglow, the room's cloying heat was a constant reminder that he didn't have that luxury. Before his mind could supply a 'next time' to that particular thought, Atsumu moved, not wasting any time to start cleaning up. He sat down on the metal flooring, dangled his legs over it's edge, and started to scrape his hands against the middle rail. It was a new experience for Kiyoomi, not having as much grossness to clean up after stolen moments as he was used to, but just as Tsukasa often fetched what he needed, he could do the same for Atsumu. </p><p>Sex was fundamentally disgusting--as evidenced by Kiyoomi's cum now simmering on top of the boiler directly beneath Atsumu--but there wasn't anything else that could make Kiyoomi feel as alive as he did in that particular moment. He pulled on his trousers, buttoned up his shirt, and ran his fingers through his hair as the bare minimum of what he could do to make himself presentable to the public. </p><p>He gathered up Atsumu's clothing, placed the vaseline back into the front pocket, and Kiyoomi neatly folded the clothes for when Atsumu was ready. He was still rubbing his hands furiously against any portion of the gangway within reach, all while looking increasingly disgusted. Instead, Kiyoomi took a hold of Atsumu's arm, and raised his eyebrows, his way of asking if he wanted help in spite of the din surrounding them. </p><p>Kiyoomi pulled Atsumu to his feet, and guided his legs into the trousers. Atsumu went to grab Kiyoomi's shoulders, purely by instinct, but a sharp glare put an end to that action. He instead steadied himself on the railing as Kiyoomi helped him dress. </p><p>With both him and Atsumu looking mostly presentable, Kiyoomi opened doors for him like the gentleman his mother wanted him to be. Having no idea about the layout of this section of the ship, Kiyoomi was stuck to where Atsumu led him. The third class passages were simple white painted steel, a far cry from the ornate teak carved panels in his own sections of the ship. </p><p>It didn't take any winding through passages like what was required to get to Atsumu's cabin, as the gentlemen's lavatory happened to be directly underneath the party. Atsumu slammed into the door with his shoulder to open it, revealing a line of wooden stalls and a set of simple sinks in the far corner. He looked at the faucet questioningly, seemingly trying to open them with his elbows. </p><p>Kiyoomi took pity on Atsumu, and ran the water to be nice and hot to help get rid of the rest of the vaseline. There was a lot of scrubbing and cursing under Atsumu's breath, and after the third repeat, the backs of Atsumu's hands were still shiny, even as he declared them 'clean enough'.</p><p>By the time they reentered the party, it was to a liveliness that Kiyoomi had never seen before in a gathering. Shouyou and Koutarou were off to one side, locked in a bitter arm wrestling match. Even though Koutarou's size suggested that he should have won handily, the fact that Shouyou had him at a standstill was pretty impressive. Their arms shook with effort, and Shouyou smiled menacingly at Koutarou. Even Kiyoomi, who had played a single game of crib against him, recognized that he was holding his own solely through gumption and sheer determination. </p><p>"What a dipshit," Atsumu mumbled into his newest glass of beer, just as Koutarou took on an equally wild look in his eyes. </p><p>Koutarou finally hammered Shouyou's arm onto the table, and there were a sizable number of whoops that echoed through the open area. A younger, smaller, female version of Shouyou ran up to them, but as soon as she got Atsumu and Kiyoomi in her sights, she stopped and gaped at the pair of them. </p><p>Atsumu stepped forward, and motioned towards Kiyoomi, who instinctively reached out to regain that lost contact. "Natsu, meet Kiyoomi. Kiyoomi, meet Shouyou's little sister, Natsu."</p><p>Just as Kiyoomi waved a timid hello, Natsu's eyes bugged out, and she turned beet red as she dashed across the room. Koutarou looked around the room, questioningly, and Atsumu and Shouyou began to laugh uproariously. Just as Atsumu had to wipe away tears, Shouyou took off in the direction Natsu had fled. "Well, it looks like we found out what Natsu's type is." Atsumu's smile turned wistful. "With how attached she was to Samu, I would have thought he was her type." </p><p>"Samu?" Kiyoomi questioned. </p><p>Atsumu deflated at the name. "Samu. My twin brother. We grew up next to the Hinatas, but when Samu died of TB last fall and the Hinatas were leavin' for America, I thought it was time to leave too." </p><p>Kiyoomi looked around the room, and he was pleased to see that the bar was relatively close. He grabbed Atsumu's glass as well as his own, refilled them them both, and placed Atsumu's glass back in his hand. Atsumu answered with a strained smile, and chugged down half of his drink in one go, all while dodging Koutarou's supposedly comforting hug. </p><p>By the time Atsumu caught his breath, Shouyou was dragging Natsu back over despite every effort for her to flee and hide from Kiyoomi's gaze. Atsumu laughed into his glass, and despite Natsu pulling with all her might to pull her brother in another direction, Shouyou dragged her in Kiyoomi's direction. Atsumu stood up, and guided Natsu into the middle of the room just as the bagpipes changed to a different jig. </p><p>Watching Natsu and Atsumu dance was like watching a graceful swan and a clumsy goose trying to make something work. There was more laughter than footwork, until finally, Atsumu pulled away and gave Natsu full rein of the floor. </p><p>This part seemed to be expected by the other people in the room, and they all cleared some space for Natsu. It was true that Atsumu was dragging her down and that she couldn't show off her true skill when she was indulging him, but now that she was given the space and freedom to move as she wished, she surrendered to the music. It wasn't a simple matter of closing her eyes and swaying to the driving, droning rhythms, it was a spark that gleamed in her eyes as she twirled and stepped her way across the wooden deck. </p><p>Atsumu sat down beside him, and his proximity elicited tingles that travelled down Kiyoomi's arm. There were some that stayed in his fingers, away from Atsumu's touch, but it only enhanced the happiness he felt at that moment. If they didn't have an audience Kiyoomi would have reached up and grabbed Atsumu into an exploratory kiss, but instead, he settled for leaning in close and placing a steadying hand on his shoulder, going for a conspiratorial look. </p><p>Time melted away, and even the sounds of the bagpipes couldn't mask the grumbling in his stomach. A quick look at his watch, and Kiyoomi was already missing supper in the first class saloon. Reality settled in, and he slumped under the realization that this party, at least for him, had to end.</p><p>Atsumu looked at him, concerned. "What's goin' on?" </p><p>"If I leave now, I can possibly avoid getting yelled at. No guarantee though." Kiyoomi dragged his fingers down his face, partly hoping that if he pulled his skin off, he wouldn't have to leave. </p><p>Atsumu stood up, and offered his hand. "At least let me walk you back." </p><p>It was difficult to make his limbs move in the direction of Atsumu's cabin, where he had stowed his outdoor clothing, but the thought of stealing another kiss in the relative privacy of the shared cabin was enough for Kiyoomi to move his body forward, and follow him down the stairs.</p><p>Sadly, one of Atsumu's roommates was occupying the room as they retrieved Kiyoomi's coat, so Kiyoomi couldn't act on his half-formed plans, which consisted solely of 'kiss the life out of Atsumu as soon as they reached the cabin.' Instead, Kiyoomi fought to stave off the oncoming chills and keep his demeanour calm. </p><p>It was a shame that Atsumu wasn't a little taller, or that Kiyoomi wasn't a little shorter, because if he had to leave the party, he would have liked it if his head was resting against Atsumu's shoulders. As it was, the crewmen transporting goods down that long hallway looked at the pair of them, and snickered under their breath at the sight. </p><p>It was too short of a time before Atsumu brought him to their shared spot, and Atsumu cursed under his breath at the chilly night air. It was only then that Kiyoomi realized that Atsumu couldn't come with him, and so he flung his arms around Atsumu, partly to keep him close, and also to protect him from the cold air. Breathing in Atsumu's accent, something undeniably him with a tinge of burnt coal within, calmed Kiyoomi's racing heart. </p><p>"You have to go," Atsumu maintained. He scanned Kiyoomi's face for something that Kiyoomi himself couldn't guess at, but it was enough for him to make him laugh. "You've been very good at finding me despite the size of the ship, so I'm confident you'll find me tomorrow, too." </p><p>Atsumu was a mind reader then, able to take Kiyoomi's alcohol-soaked fears and give them just enough of a name to dispel them. With a final kiss goodbye, Kiyoomi took his first steps towards first class, even as he looked over his shoulder to where Atsumu was waving goodbye. </p><p>When Atsumu was no longer visible, Kiyoomi stumbled his way closer to his cabin in the front. His body ran as if it were being controlled by a guardian angel, because his mind was certainly distracted by the memory of Atsumu’s body moving against his, and how badly he wanted to have that again. Just maybe next time would happen in a bed. </p><p>He came face to face with his cabin door, and he gingerly opened it for the presence of his mother. Finding the room empty, Kiyoomi breathed a sigh of relief. He stripped off his clothing for the second time that day, leaving them strewn around the room as he climbed into his bed. His underclothes still stuck uncomfortably to himself, but even in his drunken contentment, he couldn't even be bothered at this turn of events. </p><p>Instead, he remembered the roar of boilers, and the hot air that lulled him off to sleep with a smile on his face. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. April 14, 1912</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kiyoomi deals with the consequences.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kiyoomi sat on the edge of his bed, nursing a notably sized headache and cursing the brightness of the sun peeking through the porthole. Escaping under the covers was impossible, because his mother was glaring daggers at him from her vantage point on the sofa across the state room. Kiyoomi instead focused on the panelling to the left of her head, mustering the energy to keep what little contents were still in his stomach within his body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're an embarrassment." She wasn't the type to yell her displeasure into the air for everyone to see. Instead, she favoured dropping her volume, and this time, Kiyoomi could hear a small quiver that she couldn't completely suppress. This level of anger was one that he hadn't seen since he was a small child and broke a priceless vase in the house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closed his eyes in an attempt to swallow the anger forming a lump in his stomach, before Kiyoomi could do something that he would regret later on. Instead, his face stung with a sharp slap striking him across the cheek, and he opened his eyes to find a mirrored expression of fury on his mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Service is coming up. I’ll be praying that you’ll see the error of your ways soon enough.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>He sullenly followed his mother to the dining saloon, not to get food: no, that would be too easy. Instead, he trudged towards the church service that he always hated attending, knowing everyone there would condemn him if they knew the truth. Still, it was an instance where if he didn't follow, his life would be made that much worse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tonelessly sang along with the hymns that damned his creation, and his body went through the motions of the service through sheer muscle memory rather than a willingness to serve. His mother still glared at him through the corner of her eye, but it was nothing compared to him stumbling back to the room, still drunk and high off Atsumu's embrace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he was finally released from that church adjacent hell, Kiyoomi rushed back towards the aft deck to watch the water churn. It had been half a week, but it continued to be the one thing keeping him calm through this entire trip. He retook his spot at the centre of the railing, and watched the ocean mirror the turmoil of his stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If ya come here more often, people'll think yer a commoner." There was something teasing in Atsumu's voice, as he rested his arm against Kiyoomi's on the railing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi looked over at Atsumu, the chill, wintery air creating clouds out of his breath. "I don't want to leave at my own entrance on Wednesday." Kiyoomi had heard the rumours from the servers in the saloon, that they were making excellent time and that the weather was due to stay excellent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yer gonna run away from it all?" Atsumu raised his eyebrows at Kiyoomi's reckless declaration. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi sighed, and smiled towards the ocean. “For once, I feel happy, and it doesn’t have anything to do with titles, money, or expectations.” After a pause, he turned towards Atsumu. “It’s not like I’m inheriting anything I can live off of, so why not choose the way I want to live?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu sat there for a moment, doing the math in his head. “So what yer sayin’, Mister Fancy Pants, is that yer not actually rich?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi laughed humourlessly as he nodded. “My father gambled the family fortune away before he died. My mother used the last of it to buy the tickets onto this tin can.” He rose to his full height, a couple inches taller than Atsumu. “The only thing that’s been good for me on this trip has been you. Can you blame me for wanting that to continue, if you’ll have me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu quickly looked around the deck, and finding exactly what he was looking for, he leaned up and captured Kiyoomi in a tender kiss, missing most of the liquored up heat from the night before. Despite this lack of desperation, it was exactly what Kiyoomi needed to feel better, a different form of hair of the dog than he would have expected that he would have needed to kick the hangover he had been brewing all day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t easily break free until Wednesday. Let’s meet here before we have to disembark?” With the possibility of a good plan in place, Kiyoomi couldn't help but get his hopes up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu answered with a crooked smile. “Of course. This is turnin’ into our spot, after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi couldn't put his head on Atsumu’s shoulder, but their forearms rested against one another comfortingly. It was hard to tell how long the pair rested on the railing, talking about the meaning of life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trumpet call for dinner mirrored the grumbling in Kiyoomi’s still-hungover stomach, reminding him of the fact he needed to keep up his strength to get him through to the point where he could get off this ship and live his new life, full of hope away from society and all its expectations.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dinner was the easiest meal he had eaten in quite some time, and for once, Kiyoomi willingly joined in the tepid conversation. It was easy enough to put up with the aggravations that came with being too concerned with the other person’s feelings when there was a time limit on how many more days he’d have to do this. Kiyoomi caught the frowns his mother flashed him when she thought no one was looking, but he really didn’t care: he only had to suffer through a handful of days before he would be free of this whole, fake world.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After the meal ended, he made his way back to the stateroom, the hangover and lack of food throughout the day finally catching up with him. Kiyoomi slipped under the covers, and let the hum of the engines lull him towards sleep and relaxation. He lost track of the time, but he didn’t need to keep track of any number of minutes unless it was Wednesday, a mystical day of freedom that had yet to arrive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as he saw Atsumu’s smile entering his dreams, the ship groaned and screeched, until it shuddered to a stop.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. April 15, 1912</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Titanic's final night, and Atsumu and Kiyoomi's final hours.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So life happened, and I had to abandon the posting schedule, but I'm back at it now. Enjoy! The rest of them are an extended epilogue.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kiyoomi slowly rose to his feet. It was hard to shake the feeling of something going categorically wrong, except he couldn't quite put his finger on the name. Instead, Kiyoomi dressed warmly, and went to find some air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, his mother grumbled about the noise he was making, but it was something he relegated to being background noise. Instead, it only made Kiyoomi dress faster so that he could reach the chilly air that much sooner to find out what was going on. Impending doom had to be more pleasant than whatever vitriol his mother was spewing at any given moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A quick tour of the busy boat deck showed that the ship had tilted just enough to make Kiyoomi be concerned with what had happened, especially as the sailors worked to ready the lifeboats. A group of ship’s officers passed directly in front of him, and Kiyoomi was able to make out the words, “iceberg,” “flooding,” and “three hours” amongst all the commotion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moved quickly towards the back of the ship, a familiar trip. When he arrived at his spot, it was to a dark, empty section, devoid of activity as all the lifeboats stopped at mid-ship. The vibrations of the spinning propellers were gone, and in its place was a loud whine of steam escaping the funnels. Everything he has liked about the spot--the sun, the wake, and Atsumu--were gone, leaving the sad husk, of memories to fill the emptiness of the night as his breath puffed out in front of him, visible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as Kiyoomi got bored looking at the still water below, the doors to the third class area burst open loudly. Atsumu grumbled to himself, picking up his feet quickly, all while looking distinctly uncomfortable. He spotted Kiyoomi over by the railing, and he made a bee line towards him. “I woke up to my cabin bein’ flooded.” That explained half of the weird dance he had been doing. "The crew down there don't know anything, and it's frustratin'." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we hit an iceberg, and I know the officers think we’re sinking.” Kiyoomi stared at where he imagined the distant huddle of ship’s staff had broken apart to manage the unfolding disaster. He couldn't feel anything happening--not yet at least--but the freezing air heralded doom, and settled deep into his bones. He then took in the state of Atsumu's clothing. "But I also heard three hours from what little I did hear, so it seems like we have some time to prepare."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi reached out his hand, and Atsumu took it gratefully. Kiyoomi leaned in, and poured all of his grateful feelings into that one kiss, and Atsumu melted into the embrace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He only broke away to say, "Hey, I have an idea." Atsumu looked confused as Kiyoomi led them towards the front of the ship. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I thought I wasn't allowed up here?" Atsumu questioned, as Kiyoomi opened the gate to the second class promenade. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi pulled him in closer. "I wasn't allowed back there either, but that didn't stop me." Atsumu lit up at the thought of Kiyoomi the rule-breaker, just for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Plus," Kiyoomi added, "I don't think we're likely to get stopped unless we get in the way." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They came close to where some of the crew were working on preparing the rear lifeboats for launch. Judging by the amount of profanity escaping the sailors' mouths, it was clear that they knew the gravity of the situation. The boats also looked like they were far from ready for passengers. Atsumu and Kiyoomi shared a look between them, before moving forward, moving closer to the wall to allow the crew to complete their work quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi pushed open the door to the Grand Staircase, and he heard Atsumu gasp behind him, just as he was getting frustrated at the throngs of people still inside. He did his best to move quickly and discreetly through the crowd, but Atsumu was dead weight behind him, as he took in the sight of the glass dome and ornate banisters of the staircase. Kiyoomi was doing his best to avoid where his mother was standing, near the railing a few floors down, but she shot him a glare as they rounded the B deck landing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The band was just setting up, and by the time that Kiyoomi was finally able to drag Atsumu down to D Deck, there was lively classical music filling the air. He supposed that it was an attempt to quell the panic that Kiyoomi was suppressing in himself, just on a larger scale. Still, Atsumu's hand in his own grounded him to what was real, and what he could actually control. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn't take long for Kiyoomi to lead Atsumu to his cabin, and shut the door behind them. He let Atsumu play with the trappings of his first class cabin while he searched through his belongings for something, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything,</span>
  </em>
  <span> that could help in cold, wet air. He was determined to be ready for anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He readily found a pair of wool socks, softened from use. They brought back many fond memories of reading by a fire. He threw them to Atsumu. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's this?" Atsumu questioned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi stared at him like he was an idiot. "Your feet are wet, those will help." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu sat down on the edge of Kiyoomi's bed, and started to take off his boots. Kiyoomi looked over the rest of his belongings--a few books, a couple tuxedos, and a smattering of more casual clothing too thin at a glance to have any real purpose on a chilly, spring night--only to decide that they wouldn't be worth bringing into his new life. He spotted a few five-pound notes and some coins, and stuffed them into his coat pocket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu paused, bare feet visible. "I thought you said you were poor." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's just a few quid. It's really the last of it." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu laughed incredulously. "Just a few quid, my ass." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Would you rather I put it back?" Kiyoomi slowly put his hand in his pocket, challenging Atsumu. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nonono," Atsumu rushed forward. "It's always helpful." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thought so." Kiyoomi laughed to himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With Atsumu lacing up his boots, Kiyoomi was ready to leave the room and his life behind. He pulled Atsumu in for a kiss, savouring the stolen moment. The pleasure it brought may have only lasted as long as their lips were connected, but the feeling of happiness still lingered long enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Atsumu pulled away, it wasn't as if he was brimming with contentment, he was clearly still worried. "I can't help but think of Natsu and Shouyou," he explained. "They're kinda like my little siblings, and I wanna make sure they're okay. D'ya have anythin' that could help them?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was clear now that Kiyoomi wouldn't be able to make a clear break for the boats with just Atsumu, but have to find the red-headed duo as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not sure what could help, but if you can find anything, you're free to have it." It wasn't like Kiyoomi was coming back to this life, and it was likely to be lost with the ship anyway. Instead, he sat on the bed, out of the way of his wardrobe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu rifled through his clothing, tossing some dress shirts, waist coats and some collars onto the floor in the process. His face didn't light up until he reached Kiyoomi's sporting gear, and found some sweaters. Atsumu pulled on a dark grey sweater that held fond memories of Kiyoomi reading by the fire, and seeing Atsumu in his clothing gave him a certain level of satisfaction. He found a thinner one--ocean blue with some simple cables that reminded him of cricket with Motoya--and slung it over his forearm. He closed things up after grabbing a beige cardigan. Atsumu put his peacoat back on, and signalled for them to leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they made their way up the grand staircase, it was to a Tchaikovsky waltz, the one from Sleeping Beauty. Kiyoomi supposed that he was kind of like Aurora, having slept so long and waking up to a Prince Charming. Except that when he looked at Atsumu, he was hardly a prince, and judging by the way he was wiping his hands on his trousers, had limited charm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nobody's moving." Atsumu's eyes trailed around the various landings and reception areas. "You'd think that if there was somethin' wrong, there'd be more movement. Ya sure that we're doomed?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi gave Atsumu a nonplussed look. "Would you rather be prepared for the worst and not have to use it, or be caught short?" Motoya always called him a pessimist for this tendency in school, but it was his caution that led them both out of trouble for their shenanigans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu winced a begrudging agreement as they made it to the door leading outside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not far from the entrance, the crew were lowering a lifeboat into the water below. As Kiyoomi moved to the railing, it was to see that there were more than a few open spaces on it, which was confusing. Now that he was in open air, Kiyoomi could see the ship uneven in the water, and the front lower than was strictly healthy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn't stay and analyze the situation, because Atsumu was already walking with purpose toward the rear of the ship. It took Kiyoomi jogging for a few steps before he could get back in sync with Atsumu, but otherwise, it was easy to keep pace. Atsumu's stride was similar enough to his own that it felt natural to walk beside him, despite the rapid pace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even with Atsumu having only traversed this section of the deck exactly once, he was able to find his way back just as easily as Kiyoomi, who made it a near-daily habit. Atsumu was moving toward the third class area at such a speed that Kiyoomi could barely take in the fact that the crew preparing the rear lifeboats for launching were focused on yelling at each other, rather than making actual progress on loading passengers on. It didn't inspire a lot of hope in Kiyoomi, especially when he counted how few boats there were. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as the doors leading down into the third class areas came into view, Atsumu broke into a jog, prompting Kiyoomi to do the same in order to catch up. He surprised Kiyoomi in how quickly he could bound down the stairs, and how he was able to not get lost in the maze of passages steadily growing more full with people. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was nearly as dizzy as the night he stumbled back to his bed by the time that Atsumu stopped at one of the cabins and knocked on the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a brief pause, a brown-haired woman wearing a dressing gown opened the door to glare at Atsumu. When she recognized who was at her door, she'd softened her expression. "Atsumu, you look terrified." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He burst by her, and went into the room. Beyond the door frame, Kiyoomi saw tufts of curly, red hair in the bottom bunk. This must be the Hinatas' cabin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The ship hit something, and it's going to sink. My cabin's already flooded." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu pushed the blue sweater into Shouyou's face, who was groggily rubbing at his eyes from his place in the top bunk. He gently placed the beige cardigan on Natsu's lap, and looked apologetically at their mother. This only spurred on her concern. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that moment, a steward popped his head into the cabin, declaring, "Get your lifebelts on and get up on deck." He pulled the lifebelts from their resting place on top of one of the wardrobes, causing an avalanche of them falling to the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't help to retrieve them from the floor, as the steward quickly left the door frame to go to the next room. Atsumu picked up a handful of them, and Kiyoomi counted four in his hands, and an additional two on the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There's enough for all of us." Kiyoomi took one of the ones that Atsumu held out for him as an answer to his original statement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hinata's mother forced a smile at them, but before she opened her mouth to speak, Atsumu took Kiyoomi by the arm. "We'll be outside, and wait for ya there." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the hallway, leaning up against the wall just outside of the cabin door, Kiyoomi watched as family after family poured out of their rooms, dressed for cold weather. There were enough people moving towards the exit staircase that Kiyoomi started to worry about getting out the way they had come in. Atsumu wasn't able to give him any comfort on that particular anxious thought; despite their elbows touching, he was looking through the salmon pink linoleum into some thought Kiyoomi couldn't fathom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took longer than Kiyoomi would have liked, but most likely a short time in reality, but the Hinata family emerged from the cabin, and Atsumu led them towards the staircase. It was three flights of stairs, and with Atsumu taking them two at a time, it left Kiyoomi needing to push to keep pace. The Hinatas were left sprinting in order for their shorter legs to catch up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The crowd near the staircase going up to the rear deck was large enough and dense enough that even Natsu, who Kiyoomi guessed to be around ten years old, would have a difficult time to climb through. Shouyou wasn't tall, but he was bulky and muscular, and both Atsumu and Kiyoomi towered over the crowd. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stairs behind him were still unoccupied, and the led to the long hallway connecting the ends of the ship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are there any stairs that lead upwards in the front?" Kiyoomi wondered aloud. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu thought for a moment. "I'm not sure, but it may be worth a shot." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They climbed down the staircase until Kiyoomi reached a familiar sight. The hallway was deserted, allowing them all to run. What was previously a five minute walk, or a twenty minute stumble, quickly became a two minute jog, without any crew in sight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi blew by the stairs leading down to the dining hall, much faster than any other point he had ever done so. He was surprised to find that very few crew were using this hallway to travel; it was a reasonable guess they were in other parts of the ship trying to get ready to leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they made it to the stairs to the front general room, Kiyoomi took a moment to look down, only to see water rushing quickly beneath him. It hadn't quite reached the level that his group was on, but it was still too close for comfort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they entered the front general room, which was devoid of any partying, Kiyoomi tried to retrace his steps back to his room, counting the number of staircases he had to traverse, the number of decks he managed to be on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Atsumu, what deck are we on now?" This relatively unfamiliar decks made Kiyoomi less sure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu stopped for a moment to count on his fingers. "D Deck, I think." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi's heartbeat made itself known within his body. He looked at the stairs behind him, and the forward to the two nondescript doors at the far end of the room, and exclaimed, "You got to be fucking kidding me." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moved to one of them, and jiggled the doorknob, only to find it locked. Before Kiyoomi could call out to Atsumu to declare his failure, Atsumu was right beside him with a pair of hairpin and a smug smile of victory. Kiyoomi stood aside as Atsumu went to work, tongue hanging out with the intensity of the task. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the lock clicked and the door opened, it was to a very familiar hallway. In fact, Kiyoomi's own cabin was the third one to the right. The Hinatas looked between them as Atsumu laughed uproariously and Kiyoomi chuckled to himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's so funny?" Natsu asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi pointed to his cabin door. "After that party, I walked much further than I really needed to." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu beckoned the group over, and made their way towards the Grand Staircase once again. Kiyoomi found himself having to turn around to make sure the Hinatas were still behind him, even as Atsumu pushed forward. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natsu gasped in astonishment as they made their way into the dining saloon reception area. Shouyou's face was stuck in a dumbfounded expression. Their mother had a little bit more sense, and even as she moved her children forward towards the stairs, it was not without some appreciative looks at the decor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi couldn't help but notice the chandeliers hanging at an angle, the only real sign that they were in trouble. It was amazing at how little he noticed the slant the ship had taken. "Quickly," Kiyoomi motioned to the group. "We have to get up top as soon as we can." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were far fewer people on the landings and in the various reception areas within view of the staircase, so Kiyoomi took the stairs two at a time in an attempt to reach the boat deck faster. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was at the final landing, right by the clock, when Kiyoomi looked back at the gaggle of tag-alongs. The silence left by the absence of the band was deafening, and it only heightened the fear growing within his chest. The oblivious (and loud) asshats in tophats making their way to the smoking room did not help the fear, it only moved it closer to anger than Kiyoomi normally found himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Getting outside was tough. The band was playing the liveliest part of Offenbach's Orpheus, and it was jarring to hear the happy music amidst the beginnings of shouting in the crowd on the deck. The lifeboats along the side he had exited were all gone, leaving large gaps without safety railing where they had once been. It would stand to reason that there would be more on the other side, Kiyoomi thought to himself, even as Atsumu tugged lightly at his sleeve to get his attention. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was easy enough to round the corner to get to the other side of the boat deck, where it was immediately apparent that one had already been launched. There was a massive crowd around the remaining boats, and Shouyou's mother stood on her tiptoes in an attempt to see through and judge the situation for herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two men rushed forward, attempting to get onto the boat, despite the officer calling out, "Women and children only!" If she had been on flat feet, the hit she would have taken would have caused a mild stumble at best. It instead pushed Mrs. Hinata into the empty space where a lifeboat once sat, and in a flash, she was gone with a scream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shouyou and Natsu ran over to the edge, and likely would have jumped in after their mother had Atsumu and Kiyoomi not immediately grabbed onto their coats. The first boat lowered in the background, and Natsu finally moved away from the edge and curled into Kiyoomi's coat. He stiffened at the contact, and the racking sobs somewhere in the general vicinity of his stomach, but when he reminded himself that Natsu was just a young girl who had watched her mother effectively die, he relaxed a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the small amount of respite, the sounds of panic grew more and more prevalent. Gunshots rang out further back on the ship, but with the crowd around the lifeboat, and the people pressing forward made the deck claustrophobic. A flare lit the sky in a brilliant, unnatural blue, which no one seemed to notice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In his general vicinity, Kiyoomi could faintly see a couple more boats further down the deck, and down being literal: the angle of the ship entering the water headfirst had begun to become quite steep. There were two boats left on the deck, and so Kiyoomi pulled Natsu to her feet, and stared directly into her eyes. "You have to get onto the boat, however you can." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natsu's eyes widened with fear as the serene strains of the Blue Danube covered the beginning sounds of panic, and she looked over Kiyoomi's shoulder where Atsumu was still manhandling Shouyou from making too much of a scene. It was either a coincidence or an extremely sick sense of humour that led a serene song about water to be the backdrop for death by drowning and cold exposure. Kiyoomi would likely never be able to listen to that piece as intended, if he ever made it out of this alive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu paused, went pale, and nodded his agreement with Kiyoomi's assessment. Even Shouyou, normally expressive to the point of annoyance, calmed down in defeat. His sister had a chance, a much larger one that they will have. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She showed a level of maturity and poise that Kiyoomi did not expect, so when the next call for women and children rang out over the crowd, Natsu wormed her way through the crowd to get on. Shouyou slumped against Atsumu. Atsumu managed a brave face, and smiled a wordless goodbye at Natsu, already in the boat.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With Natsu being lowered to the water on her lifeboat, the pandemonium on the deck overwhelmed Kiyoomi's senses. The few crew who remained on the sinking ship moved the collapsible lifeboat into place, underscored by the slightly faint sounds of happy ragtime music. The music stopped the screaming that lurked under the surface--Kiyoomi saw the widened eyes of abject fear despite the calm demeanour of his fellow victims. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the boat in front of him filled extremely quickly, Kiyoomi cursed his luck, while Shouyou stayed quiet. Atsumu looked at Kiyoomi, begrudgingly, because it looked like his doom-saying was coming true. A wave of dread washed over him, colder than the North Atlantic, as Kiyoomi started to resign himself to his fate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi snapped out of his momentary reverie when he noticed that the crew were on top of the central building, struggling to get a lifeboat off the roof. Despite the clear fight to free the craft, it lifted his spirits enough that he had the motivation to keep going. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Look," Shouyou declared, as he pointed to the boat. "They're not all gone yet." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Kiyoomi looked at the water level, and how it was creeping up the deck faster than any natural tide could ever accomplish. The crew would have to get it free quickly--faster than they were going so far--in order for it to be usable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite a makeshift ramp with oars to slide it easily onto the deck below, it didn't go to plan. The collapsible lifeboat fell to the deck, overturned. A few of the men moved to ready the boat for launch, but it was too late: the water had started rushing in and was in the process of floating on the incoming water. Kiyoomi watched as the water rose unbearably quickly, so he seized the opportunity and climbed on top of the boat just as it started to float, but before the water was too deep. Even then, the water stabbed like knives at his feet, and continued their assault even as he was relatively dry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Atsumu could get on the bottom of the boat himself, the water reached his waist. His eyes bugged out at the discomfort of the situation, and he let out a gasping groan as he reached out to Kiyoomi's extended hand. He braced himself on the keel in an effort to pull Atsumu onto safe space, and once he was settled, did the same for Shouyou floundering in the sea behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Screams of panic overtook the air space where the band's music once played. There was the sickening sound of snapping cables and crunching metal. The exhaust funnel nearest them collapsed, and the discordant groaning steel made Kiyoomi only grab onto the boat even more tightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the broken funnel finally hit the water's surface, it created a strong wave that pushed Kiyoomi's tenacity to stay on his raft. It took both hands to keep him on top of the boat, but Atsumu and Shouyou weren't so lucky: Atsumu struggled to grab onto Kiyoomi's ankle, and Shouyou was pushed far enough away to have to struggle to rejoin them.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Shouyou could fight his way toward the lifeboat, a mass of crewmen climbed aboard, and stood up on the bottom of the boat. Kiyoomi decided this was an excellent idea, because it meant that more people could be out of the water, and therefore have a chance. By the time that Kiyoomi got both him and Atsumu to their feet, the crewmen had found some oars, and were paddling slowly away from the ship, leaving Shouyou behind. It made sense, trying to get away from the growing mass of swimmers before they could get swamped, but Kiyoomi had to hold Atsumu upright and on the top of the boat once he realized that Shouyou wasn't coming with them. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lights on the ship flickered, and then they went out. The ship groaned and creaked ominously, and the din of water rushing and air pockets exploding covered most of the screaming from the people still stuck on the ship. Atsumu's hands gripped Kiyoomi's shoulder like a vice, and the pain only served to remind him that this was not an exceptionally bad nightmare, but an extremely unfortunate reality. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a deafening crack, Kiyoomi was suddenly able to see more of the night sky. The screams became a constant, high-pitched roar, and Kiyoomi gripped Atsumu's hand in return, and he shivered at the touch. The grand ship had a grand exit, and dark portholes exploded outwards as it gradually revealed more of the horizon. By the time his eyesight got used to the midnight darkness, the back of the ship had just slipped under the water's surface. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The constant screaming, whistles and pleas for help in the water beyond them made it so that Kiyoomi took effort to block out the majority of the sound. He was at the edge of survival himself, and Atsumu was shivering behind him. He focused on the crew slowly paddling them away from where the ship had gone down, or on the new arrival that most of the men practically bowed to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn't take long before some of the men clinging to the edge of the boat let go, and even longer for Atsumu to warm up enough to stop shivering. But shortly after, the crew standing on the overturned boat started shouting into the night, and Kiyoomi could barely see the outline of a couple half-filled boats. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi led Atsumu into the boat, which was a difficult venture as Atsumu's limbs were sluggish and uncooperative. Still, he turned his head in the direction of Natsu yelling, and despite acting like he had drunk too many beers, he smiled in her direction. Kiyoomi found a seat, and both Natsu and Atsumu leaned in towards him. He let the dream of a found family taking on the streets of New York fill the time while they sat, and waited. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dawn broke both too early and not soon enough, and it illuminated the horizon just enough for the crewmen in the lifeboat with them to point excitedly at it. Kiyoomi reached over his shoulder. "Atsumu, I see a ship, we'll be safe and warm soon." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu lay still against Kiyoomi's shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi turned his head as he tried again. "Atsumu, come on." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu's hands dangled freely, and the gentle shaking still wasn't enough to rouse him from his sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natsu gasped, and she covered her mouth in horror. It was difficult to see before, but the rescue ship's flares illuminated Atsumu's lifeless features. One irrational, sentimental part of Kiyoomi's mind struggled to deny the truth in front of him, but Atsumu's mouth gaped unnaturally wide, even as he stared out into nothingness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi recoiled, which only caused Atsumu to slump fully towards the bottom of the boat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was limited space on the lifeboat, but someone produced a blanket to cover Atsumu, and the other people squished around to allow him to move away. Now, it was Natsu's turn to comfort him, away from that horrifying visage that haunted him, even from underneath the blanket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The morning had broken, and in the sunrise, it gave the crew an easier target to row towards. As much as sitting closer to the water scared him, it was easier to stay away from Atsumu's body and watch as Kiyoomi’s personal salvation gradually came closer. It was innumerable hours, and whether Natsu was shuddering beside him from grief, the cold, or a combination of the two, it was something that he couldn't comprehend. Shouyou was gone, Atsumu didn't make it, and Natsu's mother was presumed dead. The gravity of their situation settled like a ton of bricks: they had made it, but hundreds did not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On board the Carpathia, there was very little room for the survivors. Kiyoomi stuck pretty closely to Natsu, mostly because the one other person he knew that could be on the lifeboats was his mother, and he was far from keen on meeting with her directly  despite seeing her in the crowds of refugees. Natsu didn't appear to mind how Kiyoomi remained in her orbit--when Kiyoomi looked into her eyes, there was a sadness and loneliness that a smile and laughter could never fully mask. She was grieving for an experience he never had, a loving family, boisterous and happy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as the Carpathia came into sight of New York Harbour, an immigration officer came on board the ship. While the third class passengers holding a ticket on the rescue ship still had to go through the Ellis Island check, it was probably out of pity that Titanic's third class passengers got away with a cursory questionnaire. Kiyoomi gave them his new name--Miya rather than Sakusa--and he was set to go on his way. A new name allowed him to finally cut ties with his name and birthright, and all he had to do was avoid his mother on the cramped ship. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When it came to Natsu, it was clear that she was having more difficulty. She was a child, alone, and near to tears when it came to questions about what she was going to do in America. She had comforted him at the most horrific point in his life thus far, it was the least he could do to help her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please, sir. She grew up down the street from me. She's like a little sister." Kiyoomi hoped that the story he borrowed from Atsumu would help. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The immigration officer turned to Natsu. "Is this true?" While not an overly tall man in an objective sense, he still towered over Natsu in power and authority. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded rapidly, and that satisfied the bureaucracy enough for him to move on to the next group of survivors. She sighed, letting out the breath she had been holding, and rounded on Kiyoomi. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So, what's the plan?" Natsu put her hands on her hips, expecting an answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi dug into his pocket, and pulled out a bit of the money stuffed in there. Natsu's eyes bugged out, even as he explained, "It's not much, but it's something." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natsu laughed incredulously. "You've just lost any right to deal with the money after a comment like that." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What does a ten year old know about money?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natsu puffed up in anger. "I'm fourteen! I'm due to have my growth spurt any day now." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi scoffed. "I think I liked you better when you were tiny and shy." He placed his hand on her head. "Now you're just tiny." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even though the small jokes would not fully fill the holes in either of their hearts, it was a step towards a new beginning.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. New York, May 1916</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kiyoomi makes a life with Natsu as his roommate.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kiyoomi opened his newspaper, pursing his lips at the large, block-letter headline declaring the start of universal conscription in Britain. It sparked a slew of opinion pieces, some vehemently for going to war, and an equal number vehemently against, but even as the world moved quickly outside of his small apartment he shared with Natsu in New York, it was a normal rhythm compared to the atrocities being committed close to his homeland. Still, it was not the mood Kiyoomi wanted to generate on one of his rare days off from  the office. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn't long before he was interrupted by a fumbling key in a lock, and Kiyoomi lowered his newspaper just enough to see Natsu enter the apartment, laden with groceries. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She set down the supplies on the table, and bounced over to where Kiyoomi sat in his armchair, an excited expression on her face. "Guess what?" Natsu fidgeted to such a degree that she was nearly standing still, but he knew the difference. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he stared directly at her, and replied in a drab monotone. "What." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natsu's displeasure at Kiyoomi's less-than-enthusiastic response quickly flashed across her face. "You're being no fun." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"When have I ever been fun?" Kiyoomi wasn't exactly known for his effusiveness, even at work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fine." Natsu sat down on the sofa, trying to hold in her happiness. "Takeru and I got onto the same bill as Houdini. We start touring next week."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi's eyebrows shot up. It's not like he knew a lot about vaudevillian politics--just the bare minimum of what Natsu would tell him as she completed her chores--, but Houdini happened to be a massive name and a massive draw, even sixteen years into his career. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's huge." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natsu laughed. "Takeru has the unenviable task of telling his uncle." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natsu's dance partner happened to have an uncle who was similarly cheery as Motoya, while being ten times as petty and annoying. Kiyoomi was not a fan of Tooru. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Congrats." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natsu beamed at him, and then went off toward the kitchen to start putting the new supplies away. He was quickly reminded how, four years ago, the two of them clung to each other after their ship went down complete with their lives as they knew it. Natsu was barely fourteen but could have passed as ten, and Kiyoomi was a loner who had never been truly alone. It was an odd pairing, but it worked for them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He raised his newspaper again, but it wasn't to read the words on the page; it was more to hide his face from his roommate. The thoughts of how quickly the world was moving, and how fast-approaching Natsu's departure was going to be never failed to make Kiyoomi slip into maudlin territory. Atsumu's face had gone indistinct in his memory, but the ghost of a mischievous smile remained, as well as freely given laughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ache of the loss had not dulled in those four years, and Kiyoomi still had to clutch at his chest as the hole in his heart gradually deepened into a gnawing crevasse. Even though he had known Atsumu for barely a week, that time was irreplaceable as one of the few times where Kiyoomi had unadulterated hope, that there was a glimmer of true freedom. Now, the sadness and loss was mixed with guilt and loathing: in no reasonable world would he have this kind of reaction to a week long fling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natsu still chattered at Kiyoomi from her spot in the kitchen, and he answered in non-committal grunts, but he couldn't help but think of their first year sharing this apartment. He was a poor substitute for the brother she had lost at sea, and his heart froze and sank into the North Atlantic, but they knew each other's pain acutely without having to say a word. They still hadn't said a word about what had happened; all Kiyoomi knew for certain was that he was going to take the pain to his grave, and that it was nice to have someone around who understood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natsu skipped back into the room, effusive with happiness. "Houdini, Kiyoomi. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Houdini.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed, and it was a comforting thought that she could move on, even if he couldn't. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Argonne Forest, September 1918</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kiyoomi gets drafted to fight in WWI.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>For the vast majority of the time, trench warfare was absolutely boring. There were very few nights in his front line duty week where he could actually get some sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most of the time, however, was spent in the middle trenches doing busy work: filling sandbags, shoring up existing trenches, and worst of all, cleaning latrines. His need to complete all of his duties correctly and absolutely left his task masters impressed with his dedication, even if the speed was lacking.  Still, he was a conscript in a pointless war, with idiots for generals, and it was likely the only living things that would miss him when he died were the lice that infested his clothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Miya!" His sergeant called out from on top of the trench. "Finish your wall and tell HQ that this work is done." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a matter of shifting two sandbags in place before leaving for the trench behind where he was working, but he was happy to be done. Slinging his gun around his body, Kiyoomi left for his task. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He weaved his way between the bodies of his fellow soldiers, and the trip that should have taken two minutes overland took close to half an hour winding through endless trenches. The close proximity hid the slight chill in the air, part and parcel with being stationed along a godforsaken forest in northern France in late September. The narrow passageways only heightened his anxiety, and he fought the urge to clean his gun to cope. He had survived worse; Kiyoomi could endure again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard the yelling coming from the hut before he ever pulled back the tarp, but he faintly recognized the voice coming from within. It reminded Kiyoomi of being a child, and his cousin Motoya yelling at him for being a shit disturber--always a deflection of his own activities. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Major Komori!" General Alexander boomed. "You are out of line!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, Motoya was leaning onto the large table that took up most of the room. Motoya looked at Kiyoomi with surprise as he cleared his throat, and it took everything within him to hide his surprise at seeing his British cousin in an American trench. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Corporal Miya, reporting that secondary trench A has been repaired, like the last trench raid never happened." Kiyoomi looked away from Motoya, hoping that his indifference would avoid some questions he didn't want to answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you, Miya. Dismissed." Kiyoomi turned and exited the hut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi barely made it downtrench to get back to his company before he was spun around, only to face Motoya, who lifted his helmet off his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Holy fuck, it is you!" Motoya bounced in place, excited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi huffed a laugh. "You never could stay calm, could you?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Motoya punched Kiyoomi in the arm. "Let me have my moment. I thought you died years ago." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, I'm not dead." Kiyoomi cocked his head to the side. "What brings you to this particular circle of hell?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Motoya laughed humourlessly. "I was assigned to the French as an LO, but it turns out that most of them speak Occitan, and a lot of them have impeccable English. So I was shunted off to here." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Too bad. You could have told them that their guns suck." Kiyoomi wiggled the Chauchat slung behind him to emphasize his point, before continuing onwards. The thirty-aught magazine wobbled ominously in its holdings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was just like old times, where Kiyoomi would deliver a joke deadpan, and Motoya would laugh to let others know that it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>a joke to begin with. They just used to be about the headmaster's hair piece, rather than instruments of death. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait! Wait!" Motoya reached into one of his pouches and pulled out a Kodak. "We have to get a photograph." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi grimaced. "Do we really?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Motoya gave him a flat, unimpressed glare. "If you must know, it's not like your mother will find out. She died of that flu in July." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It did help, and Kiyoomi breathed a sigh of relief at the news. He nodded his assent, and Motoya held out the camera to a nearby private. To not block the narrow trench, Motoya leaned forward from his position behind Kiyoomi. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi wasn't practiced at the art of being photographed, and it was difficult to figure out what to do on his own. Motoya was always the one to charm a crowd--Kiyoomi only awkwardly held his hands in front of him and willed the photo to be over and done with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It became a thing, as Kiyoomi would do his best to choke down the questionable morsels the Army decided to call food, Motoya would search him out and make jokes the entire time. It was like they were back in school, terrorizing the faculty simply by existing and trying not to be bored. It made Kiyoomi nearly forget the heartbreak that came with living through one major disaster and being in the midst of another, and just be glad that he had Motoya, even as he wondered how much his cousin would have liked Atsumu. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marching orders meant that Kiyoomi was going to actually see combat rather than build some really nice trenches as October reared its head. Motoya had pissed off General Alexander to the point of him getting assigned to the 77th Division as their liaison officer. Even though Kiyoomi's battalion was being ordered to strike at the point where the Germans had the time and the ease to fortify their spot, he could pretend that he was back at school, and being in the best time of his life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The plan was a good one: take the hill, become a distraction for the battalions on their flanks to draw out the soldiers in the German trenches, then move forward themselves. Retreat was not an option, something drilled into every enlisted man by the officers. But here, three days later in a dug-out crater surrounded on all sides by the enemy, Kiyoomi felt defeated. The faces of their fallen looked aimlessly into nothingness, and in each one of them, he saw Atsumu's final stare. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Motoya was antsy. He kept eyeing the opening where a few brave soldiers left to retrieve water, and several did not make the trek back. Kiyoomi was beyond thirsty, surviving half a week on tiny sips from one of the canteens that made the trip, but it was likely he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. Between the shells that their own artillery was dropping on them, and the bullets that greeted those trying to get water, it was a fool's errand, no matter how necessary. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn't stop Motoya from gathering as many canteens as he could, and braced himself for the run to the nearby creek. After barely being able to move for the better part of a day, Kiyoomi burst forward, and tugged on Motoya's khaki jacket before he left the safe area. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, you can't. I just found you." Kiyoomi normally did not plead, but Motoya was not just his cousin, but also his longtime best friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a glint in Motoya's eye, as he patted Kiyoomi's shoulder. "It's a gamble, yes, but it's one that I'm willing to try. The stakes are too high not to." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, Motoya rushed towards the creek. He crawled prone, in an effort to not be seen by the Germans, and to Kiyoomi's shock and delight, was successful in the first leg of the endeavour. Filling fifteen canteens took some time to accomplish, but Motoya had found a sheltered spot that gave him a reprieve from the machine guns stationed in the woods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn't so lucky on his return trip. He was only 10 yards away from their pocket, when a line of machine gun fire hit Motoya in the legs. Before Kiyoomi could will his body to move, he ran out to where Motoya lay, writhing in pain. He grabbed him by under the armpits, dragging him closer to where the rest of his battalion waited. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last thing that Kiyoomi remembered was the whoosh of an artillery shell, and the bone shaking explosion that followed, before there was darkness. </span>
</p><hr/><p>When Kiyoomi woke up, it was to excruciating pain. It was indescribable in intensity, and dulled his vision so that he could barely see anything. He could barely hear anything either--it took him longer than he would have normally liked to admit that the faraway screams he heard were in fact coming from his own mouth. </p><p>
  <span>There was a sharp poke, followed by a soft burning sensation radiating up his arm, and the pain melted away to something manageable. Morphine, then. It was making the rustling of commotion of what smelled like a hospital sound as if he were underwater, but it also made him brave enough to open his eyes properly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was relatively dark inside the tent, and Kiyoomi was in the middle of carnage. He quickly took stock: his limbs were intact and still attached, minus the sharp, shooting pains when he tried to move his legs, or the pain in his gut when he tried to sit up. A lingering headache marked a possible concussion. Considering how close friendly shells had gotten to their position, Kiyoomi knew just how lucky he was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A woman's voice called out, "Nonono!" Kiyoomi was pushed flat back onto his gurney. "Monsieur, you can't sit up!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked up at the nurse, and when he grabbed a look at her face, he fell back of his own accord. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Staring at him, confused, was Atsumu. But it couldn't be Atsumu, Kiyoomi reasoned. Atsumu died in the North Atlantic almost seven years ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu laughed at him. "I'm not this 'Atsumu' you speak of. Just a nurse here." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. So he said that one out loud. Still, it was clearly Atsumu wearing full nurses robes, complete with a cap and long, blonde hair tucked into a bun underneath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu laughed at him again. "You're funny." He crouched down beside Kiyoomi. "All the nurses have been talking about how handsome and heroic you are, going out of your way to try and save that British officer, but it's good to know you're nice too." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>British officer… he must mean Motoya. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How is he? That officer?" Atsumu's face shimmered in front of Kiyoomi as his interest piqued. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu grimaced at the question. "Je suis désolée, monsieur. He didn't make it." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi laid back, and let out a sigh. His vision swam, and he couldn't pinpoint whether it was tears welling in his eyes or still the morphine working in his body. If he were to gamble like his father, he would have wagered that it was a mix of both. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But monsieur," Atsumu started. His voice turned bright, hopeful, and even more high pitched. "It looks like you're going to make it, and that's better than what some people are getting right now." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was something, for sure, but it wasn't what Kiyoomi was looking for. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Los Angeles, April 1942</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kiyoomi has a bad day.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>California never reached the same levels of chilliness that Kiyoomi was used to back in New York, or even back during his childhood. Even as he was living on the west coast solely for work, it never failed to unsettle him. It was easy to yearn for the chill of a North Atlantic spring, especially at this time of year. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi started tenderizing the piece of meat in front of him, striking it with the mallet with far more force than was strictly necessary. It was partly because of the fact that Toshi was sitting at the table, reading the newspaper and listening to the sappy love songs filtering through the tinny speaker. But really, that love song, preaching about seeing a lost loved one again in heaven only served to remind Kiyoomi that Atsumu's face was nearly gone from his memory, and the intervening thirty years left him with the faint reminder of an infectious laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the length of time, the sound of laughter stabbed at his chest, and it hurt almost as much as the day Kiyoomi first sailed into New York that long ago. The anger surged in him, covering that pain even though it was only marginally more comfortable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Toshi looked up from his newspaper just as Kiyoomi dropped the mallet onto the counter in order to cradle his head in his hands. He was still known for being fussy and meticulous, but at that specific moment, Kiyoomi couldn't care about whether or not meat juices were getting into his hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Toshi made his way over to where Kiyoomi was previously preparing food, and rubbed circles into his back. "Bad day?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi huffed out a laugh. Toshi had a talent for stating the obvious, even if he didn't know exactly what was significant about this day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Actually, he might have--Kiyoomi saw the familiar picture of a ship with four funnels on the newspaper Toshi had been reading moments before. Bad days in April were just as predictable as Armistice Day it seems. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Go sit down. I'll finish this," Toshi said, with a fondness that absolutely never reached the film set. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But I thought that you were cleaning up tonight." Even at forty-nine years old, Kiyoomi still sounded as petulant as a child. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Toshi gently pushed him out of the way and kissed his hair. "I'll do both tonight." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi made his way to the kitchen table, and as soon as he sat down at the spot Toshi vacated, he slumped over the newspaper. His arms covered the picture of the ship, but the Blue Danube played readily in his brain. Instead, he turned the page of the newspaper only to find his latest opinion piece on Pearl Harbour, lamenting about another generation wiped out by a senseless war, and the survivors coming back changed for the worse. It was depressing, looking at his words to make a difference in the world staring back at him, tauntingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He jolted out of his reverie as Toshi pulled away the newspaper, replacing it with the finished food. The meat was misshapen, clearly abused by Kiyoomi's over-pounding with the mallet, but the small assortment of vegetables were prepared well to round out the presentation to being simply okay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stabbing at his food with a fork, Kiyoomi grumbled, "I feel like nothing I'm trying to do is making a difference." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Toshi finished the bite of his food. "You may not be able to stop them from happening, but you may be able to help support the soldiers when they come back." As Toshi put another bite of food in his mouth, there was the unspoken statement of, </span>
  <em>
    <span>goodness knows you didn't get what you needed after,</span>
  </em>
  <span> hanging in the air. "I'll help whatever way I can, but you know what they'll need better than me." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking back to his plate, Kiyoomi's mind started to churn out ideas. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. A Life In Text</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Excerpts from media about Kiyoomi's life and career.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for staying with me on this wild ride! Writing this helped me through one of the worst health relapses I've had to my knowledge. Things are looking up though.</p>
<p>Lee did <a href="https://twitter.com/YORUUSS/status/1356404298968662018?s=19">some art</a> for the authorized biography portion, and it turned out wonderful,</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chronicle-Herald Obituaries, June 8, 1982</p>
<p>MIYA, Kiyoomi - Born March 20, 1893, Miya passed away peacefully in his sleep at age 89 during a business trip. A legendary bachelor, well-known philanthropist and WWI veteran, Miya rose to prominence at the beginning of the talking picture era as one of the most sought-after leading men. His extensive filmography is dwarfed by his work for the Miya Foundation, a leading charity he founded for victims of natural and man-made disasters. While his charitable efforts slowed in recent years, he never fully retired, staying committed to his work until the end. His charity is the sole recipient of his estate. A public memorial service will be held June 11 in New York City…</p>
<hr/>
<p>Excerpt from authorized biography, published 1983:</p>
<p>[Picture: Kiyoomi Miya, his most famous picture, taken in the mid-1930's, looking into the camera broodingly] </p>
<p>[Picture: Kiyoomi Miya smiling mid-joke shared with Toshi Ushijima, taken early 1930's] </p>
<p>[Picture: Kiyoomi Miya wearing a World War I soldier's uniform, looking to the right of the camera lens, circa 1918]</p>
<p>Miya was never shy about the fact he suffered from shell-shock, which led to his numerous eccentricities and a reputation as a difficult actor to work with. It was Wakatoshi Ushijima, his long-time friend and confidante, who ultimately suggested that Miya establish the foundation which became the focus of his later years. </p>
<p>Kiyoko Shimizu, Miya's manager near the end of his film career, recounts, "Toshi was such a stabilizing and strong presence for him, and there was a unique chemistry that translated well to the screen. It was always eerie to sit across the sound stage and see these men known for being so serious actually smiling." </p>
<p>Ushijima often helped Miya in the early days of the foundation, and stayed active until his tragic end in a plane crash in 1964, when Natsu Hinata, one half of the Takeru-and-Natsu dancing pair, stepped in to help.</p>
<hr/>
<p>WORLD WEEKLY NEWS - August 14, 1978 edition</p>
<p>Natsu Hinata and Kiyoomi Miya - Former Fling On The Titanic?</p>
<p>[Picture: Natsu, a young teenager, dancing in a ship’s hold, a blurry curly haired man circled for the reader's clarity.]</p>
<p>In Miya’s final film, The Golden Bullet, he pairs up with veteran actress Natsu Hinata as the pair of elderly people forced to save the world through snark and ingenuity. </p>
<p>“They’ve known each other for a very long time,” our anonymous source provides. “They’ve never actually told anyone how, as far as I know.”</p>
<p>Hinata has been vocal as a survivor of the Titanic disaster, which we all know was caused by aliens beaming down an iceberg to ramp up maritime safety regulations in preparation for human space travel. But these new, uncovered pictures from her own collection add an extra question in how these two are linked, and for how long. …</p>
<hr/>
<p>Excerpt from Natsu Hinata’s autobiography, published 1980:</p>
<p>Kiyoomi was the one who saved my life after the Titanic sank. He took me in, and helped me get on my feet after my brother and mother died in the tragedy. I was fourteen when the ship went down, and he helped me find the strength I needed in order to move on. By the time I came back from my first tour, he had left for the war, and it was years before we met again! </p>
<p>Imagine my surprise when we worked on The Moroccan Gardens [the popular B-movie] together! It was wonderful to see him alive and well. </p>
<p>Years later, when his health started to dip, it was my suggestion that he take on my grandson Shouyou as a caretaker just in case something happened. </p>
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